Killing Them Softly (Cogan's Trade Movie Tie-in Edition)

gonna,” Mitch said. He went into the bathroom.
    The black girl arched her back again to zip the dress.“Honey,” she said, walking around in front of Cogan and stooping, back-to, “could you zip me up?”
    â€œNo,” Cogan said.
    Mitch ran water in the bathroom. “Screwing’s no different’n anything else,” he said.
    â€œYou bastard,” she said, straightening up. She turned and looked at Cogan. “I thought you were kidding.”
    â€œI never kid,” Cogan said. He inclined his head toward the bathroom. “Get your trick to do it.”
    Mitch came out of the bathroom, the glass full of dark Scotch and water. “Nobody gives a good shit any more,” he said. “You ask somebody to do something and you’re willing to pay for it, and they say they’ll do it and then they about half do it.”
    The girl backed up to Mitch. “Zip my dress, honey,” she said. “Your nice friend there wouldn’t do it.”
    Mitch zipped the dress. “They still want all the money, though, bet your ass on that. No half money, no sir. All the money.” He went back to the chair, sipping from the glass. “Half the job. Pisses me off.”
    The black girl sat down on the bed and put on her red shoes.
    â€œFor a guy that’s been having himself a regular party for three days or so,” Cogan said, “you sure bitch and moan a lot.”
    â€œI’ve been paying for it,” Mitch said. “I been paying for it myself. I can bitch about it if I want. You know this broad, this Polly?”
    The black girl stood up and straightened her dress. She looked at Mitch. “Honey?”
    â€œOnna bureau,” Mitch said. He drank. “Wallet’s onna bureau.”
    The black girl walked across the room, rotating her hips.
    â€œEverybody knows Polly,” Cogan said.
    â€œThat’s what the broad you sent up said,” Mitch said.
    The black girl picked up the wallet.
    â€œThere’s a hundred and seventy-three bucks in that,” Mitch said. “When I get up I wanna find a hundred and forty-eight, got that?”
    â€œ
Oh
-kay,” the girl said. She removed currency, counted it and put some back in the wallet. She put the wallet down. She picked up the shiny red shoulder bag from the bureau, opened it and put the money in. “No tip, Honey?” she said.
    â€œNo tip,” Mitch said.
    â€œBecause you know, Honey,” she said, “I got to give all this to my man. Girl needs something for herself now and then.”
    â€œNo tip,” Mitch said.
    â€œYou’re the original sport,” Cogan said.
    â€œFuck her,” Mitch said. He drank again. “This’s afternoon. She’s, this one’s gravy, right,
Honey
?”
    â€œIt’s better’n filing,” the girl said.
    â€œI wouldn’t know about that,” Mitch said. “I never did no filing.”
    The girl walked toward the door. “Well,” she said, “it’s not
much
better’n filing, some times. But it’s, it’s
mostly
better. Some times, you know, you get an old guy, and then it’s just faster.” She opened the door.
    â€œYou know, Honey,” Mitch said, “some day some old bastard you just milked, he might decide to carve you up some, talking like that. How’d you like that?”
    â€œJesus,” the girl said in the doorway, “I don’t
know
. You think I’d
come?
”
    â€œIf you could, you might,” Mitch said. “Probably not, is what I think.”
    â€œFuck you,” the girl said closing the door.
    â€œWhich,” Mitch said, “is pretty much what I had in mind when I had her come up here. Christ you got some funny gash in Boston. I hadda practically talk her into it. That Polly, there? Same thing. Nothing but french. ‘For Christ sake,’ I say, ‘I wanna get laid. Isn’t that what you do?’ ”
    â€œNo, it’s not,” Cogan said. “Any guy you asked could’ve told you that.
I
could’ve told you that.”
    â€œYou didn’t, though,” Mitch said.
    â€œWell, you didn’t ask me,” Cogan said. “Wasn’t me that had her come up here. That broad I sent, she was all right, I assume? The guy said she’s all right.”
    â€œNo more’n that,” Mitch said. “I couldn’t get over it. I said to her: ‘Whaddaya mean,